


Something They Can't Understand

by DenDragon14



Series: Dysfunctional Newsies [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brotherly Love, Epilepsy, Epileptic! Race, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Narcolepsy, Narcoleptic! Spot, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenDragon14/pseuds/DenDragon14
Summary: Spot happened to be in the right place at the right time when Race had a seizure. Being a kind soul, Spot helped him to the infirmary. He didn't have to stay when Race's roommate showed up and he didn't have to go back to their dorm room with them, but he did.
Relationships: Racetrack Higgins & Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon & Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon & Racetrack Higgins
Series: Dysfunctional Newsies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608244
Comments: 15
Kudos: 53





	Something They Can't Understand

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy and sorry for any typos in advance. I wanted to write something like this because I feel like conditions like this need a little more recognition. In case you are wondering, I myself am narcoleptic (undiagnosed, but I've had all the symptoms for the past 9 years) and let me tell you, it is a pain in the ass and a lot of people don't actually know what it is.

**Something They Can't Understand**

For the past ten minutes he'd been struggling to stay in a conscious, fully awake state and he was just about ready to let sleep win when he heard the loud, telltale thump of someone hitting the ground. It was loud, much louder than someone tripping over their own feet or dropping a book bag on the ground. Perhaps it was a natural fight or flight response, what with the noise alerting to possible danger, but Spot's eyes flew open wide, as his body jumped back into a fully upright position. Just in front of him, on the sidewalk that made a square in the hub was someone on the ground, their books and bag and scattered around their prone body as their limbs jerked uncontrollably. People that milled around nearby watched on, some shocked, some concerned, others clearly thinking it was a joke.

Without thinking, Spot got to his feet and went to their side and knelt down next to the person, willing himself to remember what to do in the event that someone was having a seizure. In his short twenty years of life, he'd seen someone have a seizure only twice before, at one of his foster homes, and it had been quite a learning experience. He'd been seven at the time, but his older foster sister had talked him through it He pushed the fallen books and bag out further of the way and unzipped the hoodie that the taller boy wore. Spot slid his hands underneath the boy's head so it wouldn't hit the concrete as his body continued to seize and writhe uncontrollably. 

He waited and watched the digital second hands on his watch as he timed it, hoping it would stop; he really didn't want to have to call an ambulance. When the shaking had finally died down and stopped completely, Spot turned the boy onto his side and into the recovery position. 

The blond groaned, his eyes fluttering open to reveal the most startling blue eyes Spot had ever seen. 

"Woah, woah, don't move too quickly," Spot said, placing a hand on the other's shoulder. "Wait until you feel ready to get up." The blond glanced up at him, his blue eyes clouded with confusion. He swatted Spot's hand away, muttering something under his breath before he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position on shaky hands. He wiped at the saliva that had run down his face and brushed off the dirt on his arms.

"Well, that's embarrassing," he muttered. There was small wet patch around his crotch and Spot noticed the pink tinge to the blond boy's cheeks. Spot paid no mind to it as he reminded himself that the loss of control of bladder or bowel was possible in the event of a seizure; he'd seen that happen with his foster sibling too, although in their case it had been much worse.

"Do you want me to walk you over to the infirmary?" Spot asked. He grabbed the boy's fallen books and bag from the ground and then grabbed his own. He slung one bag over each shoulder and jumbled all the books into a well-balanced pile. Race brushed the dirt off his clothes as he stood and then snatched one of the books off of the pile Spot held in his arms to hold over his crotch so passerbys wouldn't see his mishap.

"Sure," he said as he turned and headed in the direction they'd come. "But only because you seem like the type to keep insisting." The two fell in step beside one another. "I'm Race by the way."  
  
"Spot." The two of them made the short trip toward the infirmary and the nurse on duty checked him over and insisted that he stay awhile for "observation". He'd agreed, although rather begrudgingly, and had texted someone to come and get him.

Race rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

"Why are you waiting with me," Race asked, "I don't even know you." Spot shrugged, he wasn't sure why he was waiting with Race for his roommate to arrive when there was a nurse present in the room. From the six months he'd been at New York's university, he never recalled seeing Race in any of his classes, which probably meant they had different majors.  
  
"A concerned Samaritan, I guess," he said. Race smiled slightly and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence.

He was half asleep, his head resting in his hand, when a knock on the door startled him awake. He turned to see who was at the door, and this boy, he'd seen around campus several times; he always seemed like the jock type, but Spot thought it'd be better to place him with the artsy fartsy type now as he took in the man's paint splattered clothing.

"You okay, Race," he asked. Race shrugged.  
  
"At least I didn't shit myself. Don't think I'd be able to live that down." His eyes travelled over to where Spot was and their stares met one another for a moment and Spot noticed a blush appear again in the blond boy's cheeks. Race turned his gaze away quickly and he reached out for the spare pair of pants that his friend had brought. "Thanks, Jack."

He grabbed the clean pair of pants and went to the bathroom to change. When he came back, he punched up the jeans he'd been wearing and shoved them into his backpack before he seated himself back on the infirmary bed.

"Are you sure you're okay, though," Jack asked. Race shrugged again as he busied himself with putting on his hoodie.

"It was so good for a while," Race mumbled quietly. Since the seizure, he seemed somewhat like Spot just before he had a sleep attack, quiet and sluggish. "I was taking the medication and everything..." Jack wrapped an arm around his friend as he seated himself on the bed next to him.  
  
"Something you can't control though," his friend said. He patted Race's knee in attempt to be reassuring.  
  
"It's something they can't understand because they've never experienced it."  
  
"What? You're epileptic too?" Race asked. His eyebrows raised high, almost as though fascinated by the fact that he might have met another person with the same affliction.  
  
Spot blinked, realizing a moment too late that he'd said that aloud and not in his brain. Damn brain fog. "No. I'm narcoleptic." Both Race and Jack's brows furrowed, confused by his words. They exchanged a look that made Spot sigh, slightly annoyed. He'd grown so used to people not knowing what Narcolepsy was and he hated to explain it again and again: It made him sound like a record stuck on repeat. "It's a sleep disorder. It's the inability to control your sleep-wake cycle."

"Oh, okay," they said in unison, although the furrowed brows of confusion didn't disappear. When the nurse finally agreed to release Race, the three of them headed back to the dorm that Race and Jack roomed in. Evening was starting to settle on campus as the sun had dipped low in the sky, casting everything into a bluish haze before the sky turned to black. Spot knew it would probably be dark by the time he left for his dorm which was way on the other side of campus, but strangely enough, he didn't mind.

He stood in the threshold to the room, not wanting to make himself welcome since he was technically an invited guest.

"Hope you feel better," he said. He placed the books and bag onto the desk and went to lean against the doorframe. Race smiled sleepily as he slipped off his shoes and laid down on the bed.

"My knight in shining armor," he said. "And they say chivalry is dead."

"Ah, there's that flirty personality coming through," Jack chuckled. He glanced at Spot. "Don't worry about him, I'll keep an eye on him. He normally just sleeps for a few hours after something like this happens." Race rolled onto his side so his back faced Spot and Jack and was almost instantly asleep. As Spot made to leave the room, Jack grabbed Race's phone from off the bedside table, drew in the password, and handed it to Spot. "Put your number in. I'm sure he'd like to remain in contact with his knight in shining armor."

**Author's Note:**

> If you have epilepsy, I hope I have not offended you in any way in what is written in this little one shot. If I have, I apologize since that was not my intention. If you enjoyed this, please feel free to leave kudos or comments; they are both appreciated. I have some other ideas lined up for this series, most of them unrelated and on other topics such as autism, colorblindness and death in the family.


End file.
